The Master at Home
"What is this thing?" Miraak asked coldly, looking at Gabe with slight annoyance while his iron grip forced the man's neck down against the table. Gabe flailed helplessly, unable to free himself from the strength that seemed to crush him down to his very soul.
"He's my stepfather, Gabe," Percy said as he steadied himself, surprised that his master had attacked without hesitation. Percy had always known Miraak as calm, even when his words were harsh. Seeing him act so mercilessly reminded him he was standing before a warrior from another era.
"Your father?" Miraak raised an eyebrow, a flicker of confusion in his tone. He studied Gabe closely, as if searching for hidden signs of power. A spectral sword appeared in his hand, ready to test whether this wretch was merely disguising his true strength.
"No, not my father. My stepfather," Percy clarified quickly, his brow furrowed, his gaze full of disgust toward Gabe. "It means he's with my mother, but he isn't my real father."
Those words alone saved Gabe's life. The sword vanished from Miraak's hand, along with all his interest.
"Who the hell—?" Gabe began to mutter, but Miraak silenced him with a simple gesture, flicking his hand as though shooing away an insect.
Bam!
Gabe's body slammed into the wall with a sickening thud before collapsing onto the floor. He let out nothing more than a weak "uuuh…" before fainting, most likely with more than a few broken bones.
Percy couldn't help but feel a spark of satisfaction at the sight. He had waited far too long to see Gabe brought down.
Meanwhile, Miraak calmly examined the apartment.
"Mmm… small. And foul."
"Well, the first thing… I can't argue. But the second, that's Gabe's fault," Percy said, walking over and beginning to show him around.
Miraak's attention shifted to the television, which was showing an American football game. He had read much in the library, but seeing it in person was different. With curiosity, he stepped forward and, without hesitation, shoved his hands into the device, tearing it clean in half. Sparks burst in every direction, briefly lighting up the room.
Percy froze, then sighed, placing a hand on his chest where a small pouch jingled faintly. He smiled wryly.
"Well… maybe we can buy a new one. The latest model."
Inside the pouch were a few of the precious gems Miraak had allowed him to keep. There were entire chests full of them, but Percy hadn't wanted to seem greedy—he had taken only ten.
On the floor, Gabe still lay barely breathing, ignored by both of them. That was when the sound of the door opening echoed through the apartment.
Percy's heart leapt. He turned quickly, holding his breath in anticipation.
A woman with dark brown hair and gentle eyes stepped inside, her pace heavy with fatigue. She was still wearing her uniform from the candy shop. She set her bag and keys down on the small table, her face showing the exhaustion of the day. But the moment she saw Percy, her features lit up with pure joy.
"Percy!" she exclaimed, rushing to embrace him. "How you've grown since the last time…"
Percy held her tightly, as if that single embrace could erase everything bad, as if every moment of suffering had been worth it for this instant. It was the hug he needed most.
Miraak watched in silence. His eyes, however, revealed slight disappointment as he realized she was just a simple human. He concluded, as expected, that the true father had to be the god. Still, he remained standing, arms crossed, playing his role as master and guardian.
Sally soon noticed another presence. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Miraak. Then they swept the room—the split television, the chaos of the apartment, and finally Gabe, lying on the floor, barely conscious.
"Wh-who are you?" she asked tensely, instinctively pushing Percy behind her. Her eyes were filled with distrust and a trace of fear, but also a spark of protectiveness.
Miraak narrowed his eyes. He recognized that glimmer—it wasn't the first time he'd seen someone react with courage in the face of overwhelming power. To him, it was almost amusing.
"Mom, it's fine. He's my master, Miraak," Percy said quickly.
Sally stiffened even more at the word master. Her wary gaze never left Miraak.
The Nord was dressed in a black jacket with the word Death stitched across the back, alongside a skeletal design. His thick beard and slightly long blond hair gave him a rugged air. If not for the overwhelming aura of power radiating from him, he would have been considered handsome. But in that moment, he was more intimidating than anyone.
"Maybe you won't believe me, but he's really a vi— a Nord, over four thousand years old," Percy said with excitement, happy to finally have proof that he hadn't been crazy or imagining things all his life.
Sally frowned for a brief moment, uncomfortable. She didn't relax—especially at hearing the word "Nord." She knew something about Percy's lineage, but none of it had anything to do with that.
"Percy, dear… after such a long trip, I think what you need is a good bath. How about you go, and then we'll head to the cabins? I'll have a word with your master," Sally said in a tone that was serious yet affectionate.
Percy wanted to argue, but his mother's look silenced him instantly. With a sigh, he glanced at Miraak… who, to his surprise, was sniffing an empty beer can before tossing it aside and grabbing a full one.
"Alright," Percy muttered, and hurried toward the bathroom.
The living room fell silent. Only Sally and Miraak remained. The Nord crushed the can in his hand with a metallic crunch, splitting it in two. Some of the liquid spilled onto the floor, and he tasted what remained with curiosity.
A fleeting look of disgust crossed his face… yet he drank the rest anyway.
"Who are you really, and why are you near my son?" Sally asked, her earlier warmth gone, her eyes now hard and sharp—the look of a mother hen protecting her chick.
Miraak studied her and, for the first time that night, allowed himself a faint smile, tinged with mockery. Still, he had accepted the boy as his student, and as such, he owed at least part of an explanation.
"Mm… in fact, I planned to kill him if he turned out to be the son of the one with the lightning," Miraak said with absolute naturalness, as if he were sharing a simple memory. His words were harsh and cold, but showed not a trace of guilt: an ancient pride and unshakable certainty made him incapable of lying or hiding what he thought. "But it seems he is not." His eyes fixed on Sally's, piercing her as though measuring even the smallest secret within.
She shuddered with fear and shook her head.
"You are mistaken about one thing," Miraak continued. "I did not seek to remain near him. The boy himself begged me to be his master… after hearing lies since he was a child, driven to the brink of madness, he clung to me as the only one who opened his eyes." His voice grew heavier as he tore open another can of beer. He cracked it crudely, splitting it in half, spilling liquid everywhere—though not a single drop touched him.
Sally trembled at his words. Guilt bit into her chest. She had tried to protect Percy, to give him normality… but she had never considered the weight of nobody believing what he truly saw.
"I only accepted because I wanted to see how far he would go," Miraak went on. "I have a slight interest in him. And who knows… maybe one day he'll end up fighting that fool of lightning. He is closer than I thought."
Fear rang clearly in Sally's voice.
"What do you mean?"
"That one is searching for something, and he is blaming your son for it. They couldn't tell me much more… but even without words, I can feel it. His destiny is woven with threads far too great." He drained the can in a single gulp and tossed it aside.
Sally looked at him, her face marked with worry.
"How do I know you'll protect him?"
"I won't protect him," Miraak replied with absolute calm. "He is the first student of the first Dragonborn. He will control his own destiny. He will have the power to bring down that fool of lightning and stand above everyone, beneath no one… except his master."
Before Sally could answer, Miraak turned abruptly, as if sensing something. He raised a finger, and at its tip a small sphere of fire appeared. A moment later it shot through the wall, leaving a perfect hole. In the distance, an explosion thundered across the city.
"Mm. Those things multiply more than before. How bothersome." His words were casual, but his tone carried a shadow of satisfaction. "Perhaps I should start making the boy fight them."
Sally understood instantly.
"You told him what he is?" she asked seriously.
"No. But all it takes is for him to grow just a little stronger, and they will come in greater numbers. It's inevitable." Miraak turned his gaze toward Gabe, still lying unconscious on the floor. His eyes gleamed as though he had realized something. "I see…" he muttered, before looking back at Sally.
"You struggle greatly for your son," he remarked with almost cruel indifference, like someone evaluating an insect that refused to stop fighting.
"How can I be sure you won't hurt him?" she pressed, her voice laden with fear and resolve.
Miraak looked at her as if she had asked the most absurd question in existence.
"I could have killed him at any moment, and no one could have stopped me. I could destroy this place without anyone noticing. I could raze this entire country, and only when it was already too late would someone try to stop me. And believe me… I would be delighted to face anyone who thought they could."
His voice grew darker, heavier, so powerful that the building itself began to tremble. Bottles rattled on the table, furniture creaked, and for a moment it seemed as if the very walls would crack apart. Then, suddenly, all went still.
"To make it simple," he concluded. "I am not like those you think you know. I do not even come from this world. And now… I am simply enjoying my freedom."
Sally remained silent, her heart clenched. She walked to the fridge, opened it, and pulled out a pack of beer. She opened one carefully, extended it toward Miraak, and with a trembling voice said:
"I don't trust you. But if you can keep my son safe… or at least make him strong enough to protect himself… I suppose I have no choice. Because I… not even I could do anything if those things attacked him."
Miraak accepted the can, surprised for a moment by the gesture. It was different from the ones he had tried before. He drank it, and this time his face showed a faint nod of approval.
"Not bad."
Then he looked at her with a calmness that chilled the blood.
"Then, as a gift for being your son's master… I suppose I'll give you a bit of freedom."
He raised his hand toward Gabe. On the floor, a shadow began to open, from which dark tendrils erupted and wrapped around him. Gabe awoke just in time to groan, his eyes bulging in horror as he looked to Sally for help. But within seconds, he was dragged entirely into the darkness.
"I believe they call it 'hell' here," Miraak said, as if speaking of something trivial. "I dislike opening portals to that place… they may draw unwanted visitors. But to send someone, I doubt they'll notice."
With those words, the Nord vanished before Sally's eyes, as if he had never been there at all.